Is Surrogacy the Answer

Behind schedule, I scurry around the house.

Hair-a natural thunderstorm, per usual, Body-Ashy, per usual!, Clothes- partly wrinkled, per usual, shoes, no socks, wedding rings, fit bit, earrings and I’m off!

I leave a quick voicemail for the patient coordinator…

“Hey, it’s Sandra, (The patient coordinator knows my phone number by heart, so I felt no need to leave my last name). I am running a tiny bit behind schedule but I will be there as soon as I can. Hmmmmmm, I’m leaving NOW!”

5 minutes later I say goodbye to our adorable kitten Zora and I’m out the door. Heading to the doctor, I think nothing of this visit.  “15 min. monitoring appointment and I’m out! Easy!”

As I pull onto the run down parking lot, I struggle to find a parking spot. I quickly remember, today is surgery day, for the office. Numerous SUVs, Sedans and minivans, fill the parking spots. On surgery day, the office is very clear on post surgery transportation. Someone must be there at the start of surgery and to drive you home. 

Passing through the sea of cars, I find a parking spot and proceed to the tempered glass door.  Once I filter through their sturdy cherry wood doors, I wave to the receptionist and take a seat. There is no need to stand in line. She has told me before, “Just take a seat and I will check you in.”Due to surgery day the office is 20  minutes behind schedule. I take a seat and watch as the happy soon to be moms walk through the door. In toe is there anxious and concerned significant other or cheerleader. 

I hear my name, I pass the front desk, pass the surgery door and over to the monitoring side of the office. My usual phlebotomist is in the back. Considering it is surgery week, it is expected that she would be on the other side of the building. As the new girl preps my arm, she luckily draws blood, on the first try. She appears tired and spent, from the day. She’s very pretty, green eyes, blonde and strawberry brown streaks in her hair, huge diamond ring, fast talker and thick black eyeliner.

Next, is monitoring. She completes the sonogram, rattles off words that sound like… “hold tight, I’ll be right back. I know the doctor will want to aspirate the fluid.” (check out the article linked to aspirate the fluid).  At this point the room grows smaller and my stomach rolls into a small knot. 

My mind runs rapid.

“Why would she need to pull the doctor, from her surgery schedule to see me. This appointment should have taken 15 minutes.”

In walks the doctor. She has on tethered blue scrubs and brown and black crocs. 

“Hi! How are you? Let’s get in here and take a look at your uterus. It sure knows how to put up a fight!”

They remove the fluid, review my lining only to locate more fluid. As the words leave the doctors thin lips, I lose track of time, reality and sense of smell.

She utters “Everything looks better than it has ever been, but  MY GUT TELLS ME YOU’RE STILL GOING TO NEED A CARRIER!”

The paper sheet feels like wind. The small, dark room pulls closer.

Why does she continue to say the word CARRIER to me? I have expressed to her time and time again, my plan and constant trust is that God will allow me to carry my own child.  My child will be pulled from My Body and carried in My Body!

As she instructs me to make a follow up appointment in 7 days, my thoughts fill the small dark room. Why would she say everything looks better than it’s ever looked, yet continue to suggest a carrier? Will she put her best effort towards this transfer? Or will she just agree to go through with it because I am so insistent that she does? Should I get another opinion? What happens BEYOND this point? Should we take a break or follow her gut?

I pay the $50.00 fee at the front desk and schedule my 7 day, follow up appointment. I scan the lobby… The grey Ikea chairs in the lobby are filled with overwhelmed boyfriends, husbands and cheerleaders. They are waiting for the door to swing open and their girlfriend, wife, fiance, to walk through it. They all stare eagerly at the door.  It was at this  moment, I longed for a huge yellow and black sign that read….CAUTION: On the other side of the door your counterpart sits in paper thin gowns, blue footies and blue net like shower caps. They are sitting in firm chairs, listening to evidence based fertility music. Some are in recovery and others are awaiting their IV, consents and unknown possibility. Therefore, please handle her with care!

Upon exiting a couple shuffled towards the restroom. She was hunched over with a nurse in toe. Her nurse carried her “sticky-thoughts” blue-luck bag. I know that bag. Good luck to you both! Enjoy your complimentary honey sample, pamphlet, cheez its, miniature bottle of water. Most importantly enjoy your babies first photo!

I left the packed office and parking lot in a completely different mental state. In just 10 words my out look changed. “MY GUT TELLS ME YOU’RE STILL GOING TO NEED A CARRIER!”